


Big Boys Don't Cry

by homesickhunter



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Drugs, Jeremy is hopelessly in love, M/M, Michael Mell - Freeform, boyf riends - Freeform, brief nsfw mention, jeremy heere - Freeform, michael is a dumbass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 16:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homesickhunter/pseuds/homesickhunter
Summary: Jeremy can't sleep and Michael never sleeps, so he decides to call a code green.





	Big Boys Don't Cry

Crying in your sleep is an experience that is unexplainable. Waking up in the early hours of the morning with tears staining your cheeks, your eyes damp and stuck together, having to be pried apart so you can stare up at your ceiling and process what you have just experienced, if it was real, if you’re really, truly okay now.

Jeremy wakes up just like that. He stirs and kicks and eventually his eyes snap open, lazily bringing into focus a ceiling littered with glow in the dark stickers of outer space. He ponders over what he had dreamed of, remembering faintly a note on the kitchen table and a half empty house; the day his mother left. It’s not uncommon for him to dream that, so he dries his eyes and grabs his iphone, knowing there’s no chance of sleep until his brain begins to slow down.

The Japanese website loads agonizingly slowly, pictures of naked cartoon girls with censored genitals filling his screen. He feels nothing, but the blanket of sadness echoes in his mind still. He spends almost an hour like that, scrolling through videos, previewing some. But his mind is too distracted to let his body react.

So much for that idea.

He finally gives up then, and his eyes close. His body relaxes, and his mind remembers the yells of his father that day, as he pleaded on the phone for her to come back.

His eyes open up.

He grabs his phone back and opens up a text conversation. Blues and whites dimmed only slightly by night mode attack his eyes and he squints to type his message.

**Player One:** Are you awake?

He lays his phone back down on his chest and stares back at the green and yellow stars that dimly shine in his room. Michael only takes a minute to reply.

**player two:** at two am on a saturday? it’s like you don’t even know me.

Jeremy laughs. He isn’t sure if Michael even sleeps during the weekends, he’s almost sure his best friend reserves that for the school days, when the nighttime isn’t enough and he takes cat naps in the back of his english class.

**Player One:** Excuse me for being considerate!  
 **Player One:** Code Green. ASAP.

**player two:** i’ll be there in ten with bells on

Sure enough, ten minutes later Jeremy can hear the soft clinks of pebbles hitting his window. He’s never understood why Michael does that, considering cell phones exist, and the perfect, professional grooming of his front yard means that there are no pebbles to be found. But the concept of a chubby, brown haired dork stuffing his pockets with tiny rocks before climbing into his 2001 Toyota made him never ask. It meant that now, whenever he does it, Jeremy can feel his heart swell.

Michael shows up with a joint behind his ear, and messy hair that sticks at all angles. His glasses are crooked and his odd socks poke under his sandals. For someone who has been awake all night, it sure looks like he got ready in a hurry.

Jeremy finds himself staring at the socks with the goofiest grin on his face. “Pizza and Superman? Really?”

“Don’t diss my super awesome socks,” Michael retaliates. He lets himself in, walking through the front door and immediately down the hall.

When Jeremy catches up with him, he’s already pulling open a window and turning on a fan. The outside air is just as sticky as the inside, and the fan provides little relief either, but it circulates the air enough that the boys can confidently say the smell will not linger for too long. 

The joint drops from his ear. Jeremy watches him bend down with a pink tint to his face.

“So,” Michael lights up, inhaling deeply before passing the joint on. He exhales in a cloud of smoke before he speaks again. “What’s the occasion?”

Jeremy shrugs and does the same, though as he inhales he coughs and sputters, exhaling too quickly. He tries to ignore Michael’s chuckles and the butterflies they give him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Michael asks no more questions after that. Jeremy is thankful that he doesn’t have to explain further and instead the two sit on his twin sized bed, smoking back and forth until his head is buzzing and everything around him starts to seem brighter and more beautiful.

Especially him.

Michael is leaning back on the pillows, his eyes bloodshot and half lidded. His cell phone echoes the Bob Marley song ‘Is This Love’ and he sings along quietly with a goofy grin on his face. Most of the notes are slightly off key, but Jeremy knows this only because Michael Mell can do many things, but singing is not one of them. No matter how high he gets, Jeremy will never forget the way he squeals when he tries to hit the notes in an Adele song, or the way he dances and scream sings along to Meghan Trainor, despite insisting that there is nothing he hates more than pop music.

Yet today he sounds amazing. Jeremy doesn’t think before crawling next to him, laying his head on his chest. He can hear the vibrations through Michael’s ribcage and somehow it sounds even better, and he smiles because his best friend isn’t wearing a tight binder so his chest is cushy, and he smells like weed and pizza grease, and he’s smiling and humming even though Jeremy knows for a fact he’s likely confused by the affection he’s getting.

“What are you doing, Jere?” He finally asks.

“Shhh. Trying to sleep.”

Michael giggles, whispering, “Okay Jere.” His hands begin to gently comb through wavy brown locks, and Jeremy can feel his body light up at the touch, calming pleasure shooting through him until his eyes get so heavy he can keep them open anymore. He swears he can feel his pants tighten and he silently thanks God for the darkness that envelops the room, hoping that will hide his shame. The affection and the pleasure mixing, adding in the calming, steady beat of Michael’s heart makes Jeremy whine softly in content. Michael laughs at him as he nuzzles closer. The behaviour is odd for Jeremy, but neither seems to really care. Weed makes you do odd things.

Then Jeremy’s eyes finally open again, he looks up through the darkness, pausing to stare down his best friend. Michael’s hand drops and he looks back, smiling at him.

“Kiss me,” Jeremy whispers.

Michael blinks, his body tensing. “What?”

“Kiss me. You’re gay, aren’t you?”

“Yeah man, but you aren’t!” Michael starts to wiggle away, but Jeremy holds him in place. His grip isn’t firm, but it’s strong enough to make Michael realize he isn’t kidding about this.

Then Jeremy’s lips are on his. It’s an awkward angle, both of their heads turned 90 degrees in opposite directions, each experiencing their first kiss with another man. Lanky hands curl around Michael’s cheek and pull him even closer, until eventually Jeremy is crawling on his lap, pressing their bodies together in the most intimate way possible. Michael can feel something hard press against his stomach and he looks down. His cheeks turn pink at the sight.

He can’t find the words to say, all that comes out is a far too confident salute, and the words, “At ease, soldier,” directed towards his best friend’s hard-on.

Of course that makes both of them laugh, and then the high makes them laugh more until Jeremy falls on top of him in a fit of giggles, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

“Hey Michael?” He finally stutters out between laughs. His body shakes as he holds them in.

“Yeah Jeremy?” 

“I think I’m a little bit gay.”


End file.
